Sweaters
by Keleficent
Summary: Some bullies make Mabel feel bad about her sweaters. Ford sets things straight.


Ford had been in the kitchen eating a snack when Mabel walked through the front door. He was alarmed to see that she was covered in a red, watery substance. "Mabel! Are you alright?"

"It's not blood. It's just paint." Mabel was downcast. She hoped she could have snuck into the house without any of her family members knowing. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Without another word, she climbed up the stairs leaving a concerned Ford behind. He wasn't sure if it would be better to try to find out the cause of her dejection or respect her wishes and leave her be.

He decided to follow his niece upstairs.

He didn't find Mabel in her room. What Ford did find was her paint-covered sweater in the trash. He pulled it out to see it was the pink one with the shooting star. That must have been why she was so upset. Whatever shenanigans she had gotten into ruined her favorite sweater. What she didn't realize was that Ford had decontamination equipment that this horrid paint would be no match for.

After nearly an hour of scrubbing herself, Mabel was finally able to get the paint out of her hair. She had gotten paint in her hair plenty of times. She loved to do arts and crafts after all. But it was usually just small splotches, not the waterfall that had been spilled over her head. She pushed the memory from her mind. She just wanted to forget this whole thing.

"Mabel?"

Mabel shut her eyes and took a deep breath before turning around to face Ford. She hoped whatever he wanted wouldn't take long. She wanted to be alone.

"Mabel, I have something for you." Ford was beaming with pride like he used to when he presented his mother with her birthday gift he spent hours agonizing over. He pulled Mabel's sweater from behind his back and held it out so she could see it was now paint-free.

Mabel tried to smile to show her gratitude. But instead, her lips trembled and tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

This certainly was not the reaction Ford was expecting. Before he could calculate what his next move should be, Mabel came forward and wept against his chest. He stuck his hands up as though he feared she was a dog who would bite him. Ford may have been knowledgeable in many fields, but comforting a sad child was not one of them.

"Uh, there…there…" Ford awkwardly patted her back. She looked up at him with eyes that were brimming with tears that streamed down her cheeks. Seeing his sweet and cheerful niece in such a grief-stricken state engendered a rush of protectiveness that negated his inhibition as he gathered her into his arms.

"Oh, Mabel, it's okay. Don't cry, pumpkin." His brother's nickname for their niece spontaneously came from Ford's mouth. It felt natural. "I'm here. Don't cry."

Once her tears lessened somewhat, Ford put his hand under her chin. "Tell me what's wrong, Mabel."

"There…there was this boy…"

Ford may not have been experienced in dating, but he knew a story that began with "there was a boy" and ended with a girl in tears can't be good.

"His name was Derek. He's a little bit older than me. He said he liked my sweater. I told him that I make them myself. He asked me if I could make one for him. I said yes because I thought he was cute."

Ford gave a small chuckle. He was well aware of the fact that Mabel was "boy crazy."

"He asked me to bring it to his hangout spot so he could show his friends. But when I got there, they…"

"What did they do, sweetheart?"

"They poured a bucket of paint over my head. They ruined my sweater and the one I made him. They laughed at me and said my sweaters were stupid, and that I was stupid for making them."

"Oh, Mabel, that's awful. I'm so sorry." She began to cry afresh and Ford pulled her closer to him.

"Thanks for cleaning my sweater, Grunkle Ford, but I'm not gonna wear sweaters anymore."

"You love your sweaters, Mabel. Don't let those boys ruin that for you."

"But they're right. I am stupid."

"Mabel Pines, you are not stupid."

"But those boys-"

"Are the ones who are stupid for wanting to hurt such a kind, smart girl like you."

She didn't seem convinced, so Ford tried a different tactic. "Do you think I'm stupid, Mabel?"

"Of course not. You're, like, the smartest person I know."

"Well, that didn't matter to the boys who used to make fun of me. Just because someone bullies you doesn't mean there's something wrong with you." Ford picked up her sweater and handed it to her. "This is who you are, Mabel, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

Mabel smiled. "Thanks, Grunkle Ford."

Ford pulled out a handkerchief. "Now, dry your eyes."

Mabel accepted the handkerchief and wiped her eyes before giving it back to Ford.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"Well, there is one thing…" He raised his eyebrow at her. "Could I…maybe…make you a sweater?"

"What a ridiculous question." Her face fell until Ford smiled. "Only a fool would turn down a Mabel Pines original."

Mabel's smile returned as quickly as it left. Nobody has ever called her sweaters a "Mabel Pines original before." She liked the sound of that.

"Grunkle Ford?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Could you not tell Grunkle Stan or Dipper about this? They're super protective of me. I don't want them doing anything rash."

"Of course, dear. We wouldn't want them to do anything rash."

When Mabel went into town the next day, she saw Derek walking down the street. She spun around in the other direction hoping he wouldn't see her.

"Mabel, wait!" Derek came sprinting after her.

Mabel considered running away, but she didn't want Derek thinking he could keep picking on her. She had to stand up to him. She turned around to face him with a death glare. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"What I did was wrong, and I'm really sorry."

"Is this some kind of trick?" Mabel eyed him suspiciously.

"No, I swear. I really am sorry."

Mabel put her hand on her chin pondering if she should accept his apology. He did look sincerely distressed, and she didn't like to spend her energy holding grudges. "Alright, I forgive you. Thanks, Derek."

"Sure."

Mabel took off happily skipping in the other direction. Derek went behind one of the buildings to Mabel's uncle holding all his friends at gunpoint.

"I did it. Can I go now?"

"Just one other thing." Ford grabbed the collar of Derek's shirt and pulled him close. "If you ever think about being anything less than a perfect gentleman to Mabel, remember that I've been an inter-dimensional fugitive for the past thirty years. I know how to cover my tracks."

"Okay, man, whatever. Just let me go."

Ford released the teen who immediately ran off. He turned his attention to the remaining boys. "Now, who wants to apologize to Mabel next?"

All the boys raised their hands eager to placate Ford and leave as soon as possible.

"I don't understand how you boys could mock Mabel's sweaters. I think they're quite stylish." Ford looked down at his own sweater that Mabel had made for him. It was pink and in bright gold letters said, "My Hero."


End file.
